


Merry Christmas, Asshole

by AlienAgenda



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Christmas, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mistletoe, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Safe Sane and Consensual, Secret Santa, Smut, be kind to me internet, i am so late on the christmas fics, why am i sharing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-01 22:04:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13304235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlienAgenda/pseuds/AlienAgenda
Summary: When Jefferson gets Hamilton for secret Santa, he thinks that is the perfect time to fuck with his favourite immigrant. Angry smut ensues, with some fluffy smut to follow."You," He spat, stabbing an accusing finger at Thomas' chest."Me?""You would have me humiliated in front of the entire office at Christmas to satisfy whatever petty quarrel you have with me this time? For one day in the year, could you not be courteous or- dare I say it- kind?"





	Merry Christmas, Asshole

"Oh, wow! Another novelty mug. Very thoughtful," Angelica had chided playfully, whilst everyone around her laughed and one unfortunate soul rubbed the back of his neck and laughed more nervously than anything else. She'd ripped the red and green Christmas paper off the gift only moments before, and tossed it to the ground along with the other cheap wrapping.  
  
Eyes turned to Alexander as Lafayette handed him the next gift. It, in itself, was an oddity. The other presents were shoddily wrapped and the wrapping paper torn in places already. However, his gift looked as if it were wrapped by tentative hands and even the tape looked as if it'd been bejewelled. Under normal circumstances, Hamilton would've been delighted to receive something which someone put so much care and effort into efficiently wrapping. Alex would've expected Lafayette or Hercules or John to put in the effort. Except for the wrapping paper was bright purple and luxurious and seemed to scream Thomas Jefferson. So much for 'secret' Santa. He wasn't even trying to hide it.  
  
What's more, the man was staring at him with both expectation and anticipation. Jefferson had crossed his legs in some bizarre show of class and had lent forwards so his elbow could rest comfortably upon his knee. Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, he grinned at Hamilton viciously as if he'd already won a war that Alex wasn't aware they were fighting. When Alex hesitated, Thomas cocked his head to the side in some illusion of innocence.  
  
Alex narrowed his eyes at the Virginian, as that's all he could do, and then, in a frustrated frenzy, tore off the obnoxious wrapping paper.  
  
Quite Frankly, Alex didn't know whether to laugh it off or to be utterly humiliated. Underneath that hideous wrapping paper, was a box containing what was quite obviously a sex toy larger than any he'd ever had the pleasure or displeasure to lay his eyes upon. For a moment, Alex was almost impressed. Then he felt Washington's eyes on him- felt the eyes of every person in the room on him.  
  
Rapidly, Hamilton stood and charged at Jefferson like an army, his eyes ablaze with the anger of gunfire.  
  
"You," He spat, stabbing an accusing finger at Thomas' chest.  
  
"Me?"  
  
"You would have me humiliated in front of the entire office at Christmas to satisfy whatever petty quarrel you have with me this time? For one day in the year, could you not be courteous or- dare I say it- kind?"  
  
Thomas' lips quirked up into a ruthless smile, full of faux ignorance, "I have no idea what you're talking about, sweetheart."  
  
Alex knew Thomas well enough to tell that he was full of shit, "Why you motherfucker, say that again, I dare you-!"  
  
Washington slammed his hands down on the table and stood, his chair pushed back a couple paces, "Enough!" Immediately, the two fell into a ceasefire, "Hamilton, take a walk." Alexander made no effort to dispute with him. The room, for the first time in a long time, was silent. The room echoed with his footsteps as a retreated to the hallways, and the door closed behind him with a resolute slam.  
  
His heart beat defiantly in his chest, it's persistence like that of a war drum. The hallways were no better and their taunting emptiness allowed his footsteps to echo louder and louder and louder. His thoughts in his head got louder and louder and louder with the echoes until they became a hurricane of resentment and humiliation and regret.  
  
To escape both his own footsteps and thoughts, he fled to a bathroom. He would've preferred his own office, but he was certain Washington would call him back soon enough and, though the bathroom wasn't close, it wasn't as far a trek.  
  
Meandering to the sink, he looked in the mirror and sighed. He looked exhausted. When was the last time he slept? Alexander couldn't remember. He tugged the ribbon from his hair (why did he bother attempting to keep up appearances anymore?) and let hair cascade around his shoulders like so much mud from the aftermath of a bomb, thrown up into the air. It looked better that way, though significantly less professional. Alex scooped water from the tap and splashed it on his face as if trying to knock some sense back into himself. How could he ask Thomas to be courteous, if he himself is not willing to show courtesy?  
  
Hearing the door open and click shut, Hamilton pivoted and let a low growl escape him, "You followed me."  
  
"I thought that much was obvious," Thomas said with a jeering little smirk playing upon those full lips.  
  
"Why do you insist on tormenting me? You follow me just to belittle me and you-" He paused a moment, his eyes darting to the box in his hand. He went on the offensive, "You even bought that stupid fucking toy with you!"  
  
Thomas was simply staring at him, arms crossed and waiting for Hamilton to shut up. "You done?" He deadpanned, with that thick Virginian accent that haunted his nightmares.  
  
When Hamilton continued to rant like perhaps that would deter Thomas from stepping closer. It didn't. Thomas crossed the small bathroom in two strides, crowding Alex against the wall and forcing him to meet his gaze. Alex was speechless for more than a moment; silence was rarely something that existed when the two were in the room.  
  
"Hamilton, you're obsessed with me. You say you hate me, yet I'm all you talk about. During cabinet meetings, you think I don't realise the looks you give me?" Alex was stunned into silence for the second time, "You're the only man I've ever met who can match my own intelligence." It looked as if it pained Thomas to confess that, "Whilst we continue this petty rivalry, I'll hate you for that and I'll envy you for being Daddy's favourite."  
  
Hamilton sneered and opened his mouth to refute as if he'd only just realised he'd been imprisoned. Thomas placed a hand over Hamilton's mouth to solve that problem, "I think that, if we were to come to some other agreement, we could perhaps fall into mutual-"  
  
The silence dragged on more than it ought to have, "Did you just fucking lick my hand?" Jefferson inquired, bemused. Alex did nothing but grin up at him, confirming his suspicions.  
  
"I'll get to the point then. We agree on next to nothing politically, so there's little chance for common ground there, and I know nothing about you personally. However, I find that your appearance isn't..." Jefferson looked for the right words to use, "Isn't entirely unpleasant."  
  
Hamilton raised an eyebrow, grinning wildly, "What are you suggesting?"  
  
"You know exactly what I'm suggesting."  
  
"Do I? I'm afraid you're going to have to elaborate," He teased, leaning forwards.  
  
"Gladly."  
  
Jefferson surged forwards and pressed his lips to Alexander's his desires presented quite clearly. The kiss was angry, fueled by every argument they'd ever happen, yet there was something too intimate to speak about. Alex made no struggle. He, after a moment, tipped his head to the side and attempted to deepen their kiss. Without releasing his hands, or loosening his grip, he took Alex's chin and huffed a dark laugh when he pulled back slightly, dark curls brushing against Alexander's face.  
  
Alexander looked almost smug, "I think I could agree to this arrangement. You're not a terrible kisser, all things considered-"  
  
Thomas rolled his eyes and his hand wandered down from Alexander's chin to his throat. Using his thumb, he pressed against his throat light and cut off the flow of air briefly, "Do you ever shut up? If you're so insistent on using that mouth of yours, I could find a much better use for it."  
  
Hamilton seemed nothing if amused by that, and he tugged his hands away from Thomas's grip, "Horny bastard. You just want me to suck your dick and shut me up." He considered it for a moment, "Consider it my first Christmas gift to you."  
  
With as much elegance as he could muster, Hamilton slid to his knees and set about unbuttoning the button and unzipping the zipper. Hurriedly, he tugged down the barricades of fabric. He licked his lips when he saw the length of the monster before him and then, as he leaned forward to enjoy his nicely wrapped present, a firm hand gripped his hair and forced him to look up. A sneer, "You look good on your knees, Alexander."  
  
Hamilton dragged his nails down Thomas' sides in response, eliciting a delightful hiss and an even more delightful pull on his brown locks. "Thank you. And you have a rather lovely cock," Alexander confessed, and, seeming satisfied, Thomas allowed him to get to work.  
  
Wasting time, Hamilton began to smear Thomas' prick with teasing kitten kisses and long, languid licks. Alexander maintained eye contact throughout this, watching Thomas as he bit down on those lips to silence himself and murmured curses under his breath.  
  
He hadn't been wrong. Hamilton had always hated and admired Thomas. Jefferson's intelligence was paralleled only by his own, though their opinions were opposing. Hamilton was never satisfied; enough was never enough. Perhaps, with the unpredictable force was Thomas Jefferson, he could be sated, finally. The taller man wasn't unattractive in the least. Alex would have to be stupid or blind to think so, and Hamilton was neither.  
  
When Thomas' hips started to rut wildly forwards, and the man, not so politely, asked him to hurry up, Hamilton chuckled before obliging. He took Jefferson to the root, stretching his lips around the sizable length. Gripping Thomas's hips, and digging his nails into the dark flesh none to kindly, Alexander began to move his head back and forth, his gaze unwavering. Chocolate eyes gazed up at him, as unrelenting as Hamilton and just as intelligent.  
  
As Alex began to push and pull his lips along Thomas' length, Thomas was the first to break the eye contact that he'd maintained until that point. Impishly, Hamilton began to drag his nails down Thomas' back whilst he sucked hard, increasing in pace and ferocity.  
  
Sensing the lack of control he had over the situation, Thomas tugged Alex off by his gorgeous brown locks. Glaring, he took two fistfuls of hair and licked his lips before using the grip he had to guide Alexander and fuck into his mouth.  
  
"God, you're such a whore. I bet you'd bend over for anyone in this goddamn office if they so much as asked. Has Washington had you? Is that how you got where you are today? Gods, I bet if he told you to bend over and let every man and woman in the office do as they pleased with you, you'd do it. Slut," Jefferson seemed to get off on humiliating and debasing Hamilton more than he already was, rutting savagely into Alexander's mouth.  
  
Alex made gagging noises, sending vibrations through Thomas and encouraging him further. Not once did Hamilton actually try to pull away or stop Thomas from ravishing his mouth.  
  
With a cry, Thomas came down his throat hard and Hamilton gagged just as hard. When Thomas had done, he released Hamilton's hair and Alex pulled away, gasping for air and spluttering. Whilst Thomas had held him still around his cock whilst he came, he'd been forced to swallow the bitter fluid.  
  
Thomas, with a surprising kindness, helped Hamilton to his feet and sat him on the counter between the two sinks. Alexander, with a hoarse voice, managed, "What are you doing?"  
  
Thomas huffed a laugh as he slid off Alex's pants after pulling up his own, "If we're going to come to a mutual understanding, It has to be a give and take situation. I can't let you suck my dick and not return the favour. Then I'd owe you something. The horror."  
  
Alex just nodded gently, as Thomas slid a hand to his dick. He would never choose to allow Thomas to see him so vulnerable, but he wanted to get off so badly. His head was spinning. Alex hesitated before he draped his arms over Thomas' shoulders. Jefferson, for a moment, opened his mouth to speak. Hamilton pressed a kiss to his mouth before he could and murmured, "Not a word."  
  
Seeming to understand, Jefferson leaned forwards and claimed Hamilton's lips with his own, and was met with no resistance. His hand slid up and down Hamilton's length as he licked his way into his mouth. He felt each little noise and each sharp intake of breath when he would do that thing with his tongue. It was entrancing.  
  
With a scratchy cry, Hamilton spilt into Thomas's hand, almost shameless.  
  
For a long minute, Hamilton held Thomas close by clinging to the back of his shirt possessively. When he realised what he was doing, he let go and cleared his throat.  
  
Thomas, without thought, blurted, "What are you doing this Christmas?"  
  
Hamilton thought for a moment, "John is going to his parents, Laf and Herc are visiting France, and I don't have many other friends. So, I will probably be sat alone in my apartment working and watching Elf on repeat in some vain attempt to be festive."  
  
Laughing under his breath at the absurdity of that answer, Thomas responded, "Not anymore. You're going to come over to my place."  
  
Pretending he didn't like that idea, he muttered, "Fine."  
  


* * *

  


Christmas eve came sooner than Alexander had wished it to, and yet it couldn't come soon enough. Conflicted, Hamilton crawled out of his Taxi and steeled his resolve. God, he half wished he could retreat back into the Taxi and go home.  
  
Jefferson might've been kidding. Inviting him over just to laugh in his face. The Taxi was looking more and more tempting as it's beady red eyes glared at him from the back. The Taxi didn't seem to be an option anymore.  
  
Alex pushed past the gate and closed it behind him, and made his way through the Garden which he was sure would be beautiful if all the leaves hadn't abandoned their trees and their branches.  
  
Alexander had to admit, even without the leaves, the house was picturesque. Modern and updated, and yet the scene through the windows held the promise of a cosy charm. Modest yellow Christmas lights hung from the roof, and from the door hung a wreath with red berries and holly leaves. The tree stood centre stage in the front window, with golden and silver tinsel and ornaments hung sparsely across the evergreen. Below the tree, a figure seemed to be fussing with the tree trying to position everything just so. Hamilton smiled, comforted by that scene. Thomas wasn't playing games with him- not this time.  
  
He shared a private moment of hope. Perhaps this time, he would be able to keep someone to call his. Perhaps they'd share more Christmases together, decorating that tree. Perhaps Hamilton could finally be satisfied by the man who always challenged and surprised him.  
  
Snapping out of that wistful little daydream, Alex released a warm breath, air forming a mist. He stepped to the door and rang the doorbell once, hiding the wrapped box behind his back.  
  
Thomas opened the door quickly, and he heard the scrambling of feet on a polished wooden floor. Alexander gave Thomas a quick look up and down and grinned at how utterly Thomas it was. A Christmas sweater with Santa on it seemed innocent until you saw the text, which read 'Where my ho's at?'. Complimenting this, he wore a pair of sinful sweatpants which hung low on his hips and displayed his assets. Hamilton wasn't a blind man; he could admit Thomas was attractive.  
  
Realising he'd been staring for about a minute, he looked away and pushed the gift at Thomas.  
  
"This is for you," He explained quickly, "You got me something; it only seemed fair."  
  
Thomas smiled in a way that made Alex's heart twist in a way that he didn't believe could be love. "Thank you." Thomas stepped aside and allowed the immigrant to step inside.  
  
Alex slipped off his shoes and his coat and placed them in what seemed to be appropriate places. Facing Thomas again, he smiled in a way that was almost awkward. He didn't know how to act around Thomas if they weren't fighting.  
  
"Th-" Hamilton started.  
  
"I ma-" Thomas also started.  
  
The two looked at each other before breaking into a comfortable laughter. They both felt the same strange tension.  
  
"You first, Alexander."  
  
"Just Alex is fine. I just wanted to say thank you for inviting me over. It's weird but so much better than a lonely Christmas."  
  
"It's my pleasure, Alex. Come on, I made food." He gestured to the living room.  
  
The two made their way to the living room, but Hamilton stopped in the doorway and grabbed Thomas's sleeve. He pointed up to the branch, decorated with little white berries. Hamilton grinned cheekily.  
  
"Mistletoe. This is your house and you put these decorations up, yet you forgot," Hamilton teased, as Thomas settled tentative hands on the shorter man's hips to pull him closer as said man draped his arms lazily over Thomas' shoulder with a playful little grin.  
  
"Hamilton?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Be quiet and kiss me."  
  
"Gladly."  
  
As their lips met in a far gentler manner than they ever had before, Alexander couldn't help but hope that this Christmas would be the best yet. This Christmas, he would fall in love with Thomas Jefferson (something Hamilton never thought would happen) and perhaps the two of them wouldn't have to spend anymore Christmases alone again.  
  
Distracted, Thomas took advantage of his placidity to slide his tongue into Hamilton's mouth to explore, demanding and reckless. For a while, Hamilton humoured him, providing very little resistance. That was until wandering hands began to slide lower and lower down his back, and came to rest on the curve of his ass.  
  
Alex lightly bit down on Thomas' tongue, forcing a hastened retreat. Losing his tongue would make arguing with the shorter man so much harder.  
  
"I'm pretty sure mistletoe is meant for chaste kisses only," Alex chided, taking a small step away.  
  
Thomas rolled his eyes, with a charming smile pulling on his lips, "There aren't rules to mistletoe, Alex. And if there were, you know full well I wouldn't follow them."  
  
With a breathy little laugh, Hamilton signified the end to their conversation. The silence that followed was surprisingly comfortable silence, in which Jefferson gestured for Hamilton to follow him through to the living room and Alex followed obediently.  
  
Thomas wasn't a man to do things by half, Alexander observed. He'd gotten a small glimpse of his fussing from the front window from the front garden. The Virginian, evidently, had to make sure everything was done correctly. Instead of buying a fake plastic tree from a supermarket, which could easily be assembled each year and used again the year after, Jefferson had driven an hour and a half to the nearest provider of fir trees for Christmas (and actually bought one; unlike Alex who, upon seeing the price, had decided a cheap supermarket Christmas tree would suit him perfectly). The room was festively cosy, with warm white lights and golden decorations on the tree.  
  
On the coffee table, Thomas had set out an array of foods that would be more than enough for a family of six. Upon seeing the amount, he thought it wasteful but was also humbled by the effort the man had put into making today perfect. Thomas himself was watching Alex from the corner of his eye, anxious for his reaction but pretending he didn't care. In a way, it was endearing.  
  
Grateful, Alexander sat on the sofa that he soon sunk back into. To put Thomas at ease, he said, "Thank you, Thomas. This is the best Christmas I've had in years."  
  
Thomas grinned smugly, before sitting beside Hamilton, "Of course it is. Now, let's see what you bought me." Thomas quickly ripped off the wrapping paper that Alex had spent so much time on, to reveal a box. Inside, was a bottle of expensive red wine.  
  
Hamilton apologised quickly, "Sorry it's not very thoughtful, but your invitation was very short notice."  
  
"Apology accepted- if you agree to drink with me."  
  
"Deal."  
  
The next three hours passed by in a blur of eating, drinking and laughter. Despite their professional disagreements, the two got along like a house on fire with their disagreements set aside. Given time, they'd probably set a house on fire. Still, it was Christmas and so the two didn't squabble for once.  
  
Once the two of them had settled down on Thomas' sofa, it was clear Thomas wanted to say something that he didn't know how to phrase. Whilst Alexander watched some Christmas special, tucked comfortably underneath Thomas' arm, Jefferson watched Hamilton.  
  
"Hey, Alex?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
When Alexander turned his head, Thomas kissed him. For a moment, the immigrant stared at closed, determined eyes, before he shut his own just as tight. Sensing consent, Thomas gently pushed Hamilton down onto the sofa. Alex clung to Thomas's shirt as they kissed, smiling lazily against the others mouth and allowing roaming hands to pull both bodies closer.  
  
Before Hamilton could comprehend what was happening, Thomas had him in his arms and was walking down a bare corridor, towards a room in which he could see a plush purple rug on the floor. Thomas' bedroom? Okay.When Hamilton was set down on the bed, as content and intoxicated as Jefferson, his suspicions were confirmed. Thomas began to kiss down his jaw and neck; Hamilton felt a deep voice against the skin of his neck.  
  
"I want you. Please, let me have you?"  
  
Hamilton threaded his fingers into Thomas' locks and gave a playful little tug, "Alright."  
  
Thomas let out a throaty noise at the hair pulling, and Alex used this as leverage to climb on top, thighs either side of Thomas' hips. Alexander teased, "You may have me- if you let me take control." Stunned, Thomas gawked at Hamilton in both amusement and arousal, before nodding quickly. He couldn't bring himself to protest.  
  
Hamilton began to slowly rock his hips back and forth, grinding down against Jefferson's cock in an attempt to get under his skin. Thomas let out something akin to a growl, and Alex huffed a laugh. Thomas grabbed the back of Hamilton's neck and dragged him down into a hot kiss, messy and crude due to alcohol.  
  
Feeling hands ventured up his back, underneath his shirt, he pulled himself away from the oasis that was Thomas and tugged his shirt off, throwing it onto the floor.  
  
"I must've been a very good boy this year to deserve you for Christmas," Thomas flirted with that irritatingly attractive drawl.  
  
"Or a very naughty one," Hamilton teased, curling his hand into those gorgeous locks and tugging harder than last time. Alexander was delighted to hear a deep, loud moan. Satisfied, Alex released Thomas to drag him into a sitting position so that he could practically tear of the obstructing fabric of his shirt. Meanwhile, Thomas' hands wandered along his sides and back before settling on his ass to squeeze. It was Hamilton's turn to make a noise then. Undignified, Alexander pushed Thomas firmly down to the bed to attack his lips with ravenous kisses.  
  
Alexander noticed each time that Thomas would try to get on top, but each time he prevented it by shifting his weight. Aroused and aggravated, Thomas was a hot, and angry mess.  
  
Leaning down to Thomas' ear, Alexander purred, "Do you have lube and condoms somewhere?"  
  
"Drawer. Near the mirror. Lose your clothes whilst you're at it."  
  
"Gladly."  
  
Whilst Thomas waged war against his lounge pants and underwear on his bed, Alexander stood and dropped any clothes on the way. Reaching the dressing table, he made a display of bending over to grab the necessary supplies. He was sure he had Jefferson drooling.  
  
Reaching the bed, Alex realised he no longer had the advantage of being on top. Before he could conjure a plan, Thomas grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the bed. Thomas used this to climb on top, but Hamilton used the momentum to get back on top.  
  
This continued for a few minutes, a mess of flailing limbs and hair tugging and wretched moans before Hamilton stopped protesting and quickly exclaimed, "Thomas! We're going to fall. Be still."  
  
Thomas wasn't still. Grabbing Alexanders hips, he dragged him to the centre of the bed. Before doing anything else, he snapped Alex's hair tie and allowed that brunette hair to splay across the pillow. After, he bit down hard into Hamilton's shoulder, sucking hard and ignoring Hamilton's cries. He wasn't saying stop or pushing him away, so he figured it was okay. Pulling away, he was proud to see a dark bruise forming as he closed in on Alex's ear to whisper, "Mine."  
  
Recovering, Hamilton leaned back on the pillows, panting like a bitch in heat or some fake porn star. Jefferson coated his fingers in the lube and settled between Alexander's thighs, with one of his legs slung lazily over his shoulder to give him a better angle.  
  
Still, he didn't begin.  
  
"Alexander? You okay?"  
  
"...Yeah. Thanks."  
  
Thomas nodded curtly, and slid in a single finger; Hamilton sighed in contentment at the familiar feeling. After a few moments of curling the finger in a come hither motion with very little response, he slid in a second finger. Hamilton's back arched a little off the bed and he let out cute, quiet whimper which Thomas didn't think Hamilton was capable of making.  
  
Leaning slowly, albeit eagerly down to Alexander's ear, Thomas taunted, "You're a pretty boy, aren't you?"  
  
With long, skilled fingers working him open, Alex snarled, "The prettiest you'll ever have the pleasure to fuck."  
  
Thomas didn't dignify that with a response but smiled affectionately down at the sun-kissed man.  
  
"Do you think you're ready, Alex?"  
  
"Yeah. Hurry up."  
  
Thomas laughed quietly under his breath as he slid on a condom and lathered lube onto it with a free hand. Alexander watched with interest and braced himself on his elbows as Thomas leaned down to kiss him, distracting him from the pain as he slowly pushed in.  
  
Eyebrows knitted together and lips parted in a quiet cry, Alex clung to the bedsheets. Thomas paused for Alex's comfort, gently brushing the man's hair from his face and placing a chaste kiss to Alexander's lips.  
  
"Am I okay to continue?"  
  
Distrustful of his words, Hamilton nodded and tried to regain a normal breathing pattern. It'd been a while since he'd done this. In his youth, he'd been quite the ladies (and mans) man. Cautious, Thomas pushed in slowly and stilled when fully sheathed inside to allow Alexander to properly adjust to his size.  
After a moment, Hamilton uttered the word Thomas had been waiting for, "Move."  
  
At that, Thomas hitched Alex's legs up onto his shoulders more effectively and pistoned his hips forwards, causing Hamilton's head to fall back and his lips to part in a stunned cry. Slow and steady, Thomas began to set a comfortable pace. The grip on Alex's hips strong and firm, he began to speed up, admiring the sight below him.  
  
Alex, hands curled in the satin white sheets, had his back contorted up from the bed. His brunet locks were spread around his head, like some lusty angel in the throes of pleasure. The hard-working immigrant, usually Washington's obedient lapdog, debased and submissive below him, was more than Thomas could bare.  
  
Beginning to set a brutal pace, Thomas leaned down to claim Alexander's already kiss bitten lips before moving to abuse other areas of skin. Sucking deep purple marks down his neck and chest was a task that Jefferson took great pleasure in performing, especially as Hamilton began to carve deep red welting marks down his back with his nails.  
  
"Fucking hell, Hamilton," seethed Thomas through clenched teeth, "I'm close."  
  
Alexander, fucked into silence and agreement, managed to murmur, "Yeah, sure."  
  
For a moment, Thomas simply imagined. Imagined a future with Alexander. A future where they could do this all the time, and laugh, and celebrate and cry, together. As a couple. Perhaps that's what motivated him to do what he did next. Resting his forehead against Hamilton's, to whisper, "I'm falling in love with you." With his cock buried deep inside Hamilton's hole, he kissed him in a way that was too gentle for a lonely one night stand at Christmas.  
  
Hamilton's violent claws relaxed into a gentle caress as he screamed his pleasure against Thomas' groans and growls. The two came at almost the same time. Hamilton onto his stomach, and Thomas into the condom.  
  
Catching his breath, Jefferson didn't pull out for a minute or five. Absentmindedly, Hamilton had been running cautious fingers through his hair. He breathed, "Merry Christmas, asshole."  
  
They weren't alone for Christmas after that year.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this far. <3 Kudos and comments are appreciated. If you like, follow my [Tumblr](https://peridotteacup.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ~ Wren


End file.
